Confusing Pawns for Kings

John jumped with the body in tow once more, landing in the art supply room for the second lunch in a row. A quick peek proved his fortune this time: Summers was nowhere to be seen. Once more he was faced with the prospect of slapping this collar onto the mage, presuming it even worked, and the question of what to do once this was all settled... Questions for later, John, c'mon. I can always take the collar off anyways... right? With shaking hands, he planted the open ring on the back of Talon's neck, closed it, and watched the black pearls melt as they did on the one meant for him, shrinking the collar until it fit just snugly around the man's throat. John exhaled, and looked through his pop-ups, reviewing everything else he had missed.

Quest Complete!
+Gamer's eye
+3,000XP

Level up!
+20hp
+20mp
+5 stat points
+1 paragon point

Achievement unlocked! "Dance magic"!
Defeated an equal or higher-leveled mage in a real magical duel! You didn't even get turned into a newt!
+1,000XP
+50mp

Achievement unlocked! "Fully loaded"!
Possess more than ten magical items in your inventory at any given time. Too much of a good thing?
+10 max inventory
+1 to Craft

He looked the man over, finding a host of "qualities" as his summons had listed now that he had the benefit of the gamer's eye. A veritable paragraph of body mods that sounded dangerous (and cool) could all be found in the man, some John would have to investigate later, others that had their components tucked into his inventory. Looking at them now, he realized the man would probably die if any of the rest, ranging from the stomach replaced by a generator to the heart replaced with two artificial ones, had been pulled. He pulled up his paragon sheets and almost dropped the next point into the Mind chart with the others...

I almost died. John's fingers shook. His whole hand was shaking, he realized now. He had kept his cool by a thread in that absurd duel of wits... and if he had slipped even once, he would've been electrocuted, set on fire, stabbed, eaten, or some awful mix of the four. Now he knew Talon's static field wouldn't have killed him in one blow, or even two if he used equilibrium right... but with everything else? What if he kept finding mages warded against (ranged) melee attacks? My style's great, and it's helped me out of just about every problem so far... but except for the magic of a Glock, I've got nothing to shoot... Checking the flamethrower arm (he refused to even acknowledge the brass, flame-tipped dick floating in his inventory), he saw the trigger to use it was based on the nerve-tied socket Talon had at his elbow... meaning he couldn't use it without ripping off his own arm, and so still only had the "magic" of a regular gun for ranged attacks.

The ruin spell blinked expectantly on the PARAGON SOUL chart. Looking it over, the rune gave John nothing about the spell besides the name. What if it was a waste? What if it was another melee spell, a prospect unbearably disappointing compared to flat damage reduction, or even more immunities. Then again... with how awesome the other stuff is... I mean, it's got to be at least kind of useful, right? John breathed in and out once, heavily, before pressing the point into the rune.

Paragon spell learned: Ruin!

Achievement unlocked! "Do you believe in magick?"!
Unlocked your first paragon spell! The truth of your world draws near; you will come to resent it.
+100mp
+Leylines become visible

Ruin, 0 to 999,999mp
Ruin: summon destructive **** onto a target, the results of which are based on the distance to the target, visibility of the target, the mana spent, the time taken to cast, the damage element chosen, the number of mundane witnesses, and the degree of difference between how it was manifested and the limitations of the containing paradigm. Base damage is 1.

What the Hell are all these requirements... and for a base damage of one point?! John sighed with frustration; he didn't have time to test it out enough to warrant trusting it if saving Tricia came to another fight, nor to try and feel out the impact or meaning of "paradigms" or any of the other parameters. He eyed the surrounding implements for a target. His gaze landed on an old acrylic brush, well-cleaned with polished wood and even, synthetic bristles awaiting use. He pointed a finger at it, willed ten mana into ruin as he cast it, and watched the brush with terrible focus. It began to shiver, a green light glowed around it, John's eyes widened as he feared an explosion-!

3 damage

The brush tip split apart, and a crack appeared, but it was otherwise unharmed. You've got to be fucking kidding me... Ten mana was hardly a healthy dose, but given what he could do with his style? He'd have to play with the other parameters later before writing it off for good, but for now the spell would have to sit out whatever battle awaited him, if he wasn't too late already. John kneeled by Talon and began to focus heals into him, and with just one the overweight artificer coughed back to life. His goggles hid his eyes, but his voice, still with the light gravel it always bore, helped prove that John hadn't missed the man's reaction. Indeed: there simply was no reaction to miss. "What would you have me do, John?"

John looked away from the man. As much as he loathed him during the fight, this... husk was ugly to him, and that lifeless voice... "Are they really already grabbing Tricia?"

"Yes," Talon replied, his voice never wavering from the monotonous tone, "the plan was to steal you simultaneously so as to reduce our exposure to the authorities, here and elsewhere. They would have received the signal from my Trap Box activating, and they would've known to activate the one I made for them right after."

"Where would they have done it? Can you take me there?"

"The Biomechanics Lab, where she's the only one who does her research through lunch. Yes, if I figure out where we currently are."

"Jesus- no, maybe I've got time. What floor?"

"The fourth."

John didn't know where that lab could even be, but he had used the restrooms on every floor to be alone (read: evade Frank and Vanessa) before this insane week had begun. Checking again for witnesses, he opened an inch-wide tunnel before his eye and over the bathroom on the floor, confirmed it was empty, and jumped them both into it before closing the portal back up. The sinks and stalls were all left alone for now; Tricia and the staff were likely the only ones eating lunch on this floor. "Show me where it is!"

"We are in it."

"What?"

"We are currently within the proximity of the Trap Box, though of course we were not the intended targets, and so have not been automatically dragged into it."

"But you said the lab was the target!" John looked about the stalls and out the bathroom entrance, waiting for some new foe to appear despite Rurik's assurances. He swapped gamer's eye to the barrier-scanning version... and saw a fine, prismatic mist cover everything.

Trap barrier lvl13
Creator: Dr. Rurik Talon
User: Yarrick Dell
Population: 6

Six...?

"The lab was the location of the target, yes," he droned, "and the Gorbachev was the sole target... but one needs an expansive area to hope to capture one and survive."

John raised an eyebrow. "... Survive?"

"Yes, as in to avoid being killed by the Gorbachev."

"Wait... you... are afraid of her?"

"She is a Gorbachev; one does not simply grab a true Gorbachev."

John continued to check the hall, wanting to be sure of their privacy. Sure enough, the entire floor was a ghost town. "Wait... so how many of you 'smugglers' are there, and how many are going after Tricia?"

"Four, and three."

"So you're all in on this... I see. So you're the strongest, right? You figured you'd divide-"

"Incorrect," he said without shame or hesitation. "As an Artificer, I'm a mere facilitator; I create Trap Boxes and other tools to aid in our work. In terms of sheer power, however, I am by far the weakest."

John's gut sunk... and he summoned his character sheet, confirming that winning that battle only marginally changed his survivability. Damage... I'll... I'll need damage, right? Numbly, he threw his points into Wisdom, strengthening his fighting style and his mana regeneration, huge as his pool had become. A few points of damage, then, for his strongest attack if ruin continued to fail to impress... Three mages... each one stronger than this guy... What the Hell does that mean for me...? John shook his head. He didn't need to ask himself these questions! "Tell me about them: what do they do, and how can I beat them?"

"You cannot beat them," he said plainly, "but I can still tell you their capabilities." John winced, but nodded for the man to continue. "Tara is a Hellbat, a mage who fused her body with that of a demonic fire elemental. Aside from being a capable evoker, truly an adept of fire-based magic, she can ignite virtually anything that draws closer to her, with the intensity of her natural body heat being enough to burn a healthy man to **** by the time he might touch her. This power degrades exponentially as one gets away from her, but such is her talent that range only makes it easier for her to wield the living flame."

"Jesus... she's... she's the strongest, then?"

"She is the second weakest of our group. Above her are the other two, who may be rough equals: Desden, a blood mage and a vampire who has mastered his powers over mortal minds and over the blood in mortal veins, and Yarrick, a swordfighter."

John gripped the counter as he stared at himself in the mirror while listening... but glanced back at Rurik at that last mention. "You mean like a... swordmage?"

"No. A swordfighter. He fights with his sword."

"... That's it?"

"He is very good with that sword."

"I... wait, fuck it, blood magic? Also, what do you mean vampire?"

"He is an Abyssal creature who was once human, and he feeds on blood with his claws and fang-like rows of teeth. He can also charm mortals or dominate their wills with just his eyes, he can transform into a fleet of bats or a pack of wolves... vampire is as close as anything to a definition. Vampires aren't real, of course." Don't you dare 'of course' that aside like it's absurd in this world! "But blood magic is very real... and mages with vital fluids are at a distinct disadvantage against him."

A glass cannon fire wizard, some kind of VtM cosplayer, and... a duelist, I guess? "Wait, so why are there six people or creatures in the barrier? Does that mean he transformed?"

Rurik paused at that. "... he is weaker in that form, so I doubt it. If I had to guess... something must have gone wrong. "

John needed help... and time to think, to prepare for what was coming- Fuck it, I know exactly how to buy some time. "Rurik, go into a stall, close it, and go take a dump if you can. If-"

"I do not expel feces or urine from my body anymore. My intestines are now a networking server that-"

"I do not want you to finish that sentence." Rurik fell silent. "Just... pretend to be doing number two then, and tell anyone who knocks the same. If they keep bothering you, tell them you're John Newman's... erm... uncle, and you're here to pick me up because I'm not feeling good." Man, I really hope no one comes knocking...

Rurik quietly followed his orders, closing the stall door behind him. John knocked once to make sure he would be OK-

"I am taking a dump," came the flat response. John stared at the door for some time...

Yeah, that'll pass.

Checking the hallway one last time, John occupied the nearby stall, locked it, and hearthed to his temple to prepare.